Religion or faith isn’t something I write much about. It is a very personal matter to me, between me and God. But in these days, when my religion celebrates the birth of a very special child, I struggle.
The birth of our daughters was special. I wouldn’t want to miss it for anything. But of course it is also fraught with sad memories, with the mourning of their loss.
I admire those of you that find strength in God after such a loss. For now, I seem to find myself on the other side. Lost. H brought it up first, saying that he didn’t know if he could go to church for Christmas, after praying so hard that our babies would make it. After praying that, after we’d lost C, there would be a way to save A. After not feeling heard.